


Seeking to Devour

by Gandalfgirl579



Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, F/M, Grishaverse, Horror, Miscarriage, More tags to come!, Roaring 20s AU, Southern Gothic, zoyalai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:07:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26638561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gandalfgirl579/pseuds/Gandalfgirl579
Summary: He wasn't going to survive the night, a voice in the back of Zoya's mind whispered. She was going to lose him, as she lost all the others.Held tight in Alina's arms, the baby looked tiny and deathly pale. He was barely breathing, barely moving, but when Alina bent to press her lips to his forehead, he brightened. He opened his eyes, looked at her for a long moment, andscreamed. The sound was otherworldy. He was stronger than he looked.It took all the strength Zoya had left to call out, so weakly, "Alina." She held her arms out, manicured fingers grasping at the air. "I want my son."A Prohibition-Era Southern Gothic AU filled with mystery beasts and dirty doings. Mind the tags!
Relationships: Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Vasily Lantsov/Zoya Nazyakensky
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	1. Prologue

No child was worth this much suffering.

Though she had not yet healed from the last baby, or the one before that, Zoya pushed as hard as she could manage.

She needed it out. 

"He's almost here, Miss Zoya," Alina murmured from down between her legs. Her right hand, cool and comforting, held Zoya's left hand. "One more big push should do it."

That last big push felt like it was tearing Zoya in two.

This was her fifth birth, but it never seemed to get easier. Zoya was certain that this child, like all of his brothers, would not be born alive.


	2. Chapter 1

_He wasn't going to survive the night_ , a voice in the back of Zoya's mind whispered. She was going to lose him, as she lost all the others. _Abram, Vadim, Gennady, Arkady,_ it chanted. _Abram, Vadim, Gennady, Arkady, and soon this one, too._

Held tight in Alina's arms, the baby looked tiny and deathly pale. He was barely breathing, barely moving, but when Alina bent to press her lips to his forehead, he brightened. He opened his eyes, looked at her for a long moment, and _screamed_. The sound was otherworldy. He was stronger than he looked.

It took all the strength Zoya had left to call out, so weakly, "Alina." She held her arms out, manicured fingers grasping at the air. "I want my son."

"Of course you do." Alina's voice was a soft, indulgent coo, as it usually was. Pressing her cheek to the child's forehead for a moment, smiling gently to herself, she padded across the room to place him carefully into his mother's waiting arms. "He's just beautiful, Miss Zoya."

"He is, isn't he?" The baby was a warm, comforting weight, and Zoya pulled him ever closer, breathing deep the smell of him as he calmed in her arms. She had never had the chance to hold one of her children, not like this. Propped up on a mountain of pillows on the over-sized bed in one of the manor's many guest bedrooms, Zoya said, "You can send Vasily in now." 

"Yes, Miss Zoya." Bowing her head, Alina gave one last, lovely smile before she stepped out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

With her gone, Zoya let herself relax against the pillows. 

She had never gotten this far before, and tragic as it was, she was certain that this time was going to be the same as all the others. Even now, holding him close, the fear was gnawing at her, and she held the baby closer.

Swaddled in his little white blanket, he made a soft sound and slowly, cautiously opened his eyes. They were hazel. They were the color of Nikolai's eyes. They were the color of her brother-in-law's eyes. She wondered if Vasily would even notice.

He was lovely, there was no denying it, but he was less a baby than a peace offering. He was a bargaining chip. He was the heir her husband had been longing for for all these years. Vasily was going to be absolutely thrilled, Zoya was sure of it. She did her best to look thrilled herself, but she was exhausted, and she was certain it showed. She didn't usually allow herself to be seen in such a state, but she supposed there was nothing to do presently. Perhaps, she thought, hopefully, she had that glow that new mothers were meant to have.

"Zoya." 

She glanced up at the sound of her husband's voice. "Vasily," she said. 

"How is he?" Uninterested as ever, Vasily stepped closer, standing beside the bed with his hands clasped together behind his back. He smelled of cigar smoke and aftershave and leather. Zoya wrinkled her nose, displeased with the erasure of that coveted new baby smell.

"He's perfect." It was the truth. Though she dreaded the idea of letting him go, Zoya asked, "Would you like to hold him?" 

Hesitating for a moment, Vasily opened his arms.

Zoya found herself hesitating, too, though she gently eased her beautiful, perfect son into Vasily's arms just the same.

"He's handsome, isn't he?" Vasily's soft hands pushed aside the blanket swaddling the baby so he could better see his face. "Just like his papa."

He really was a fool, and Zoya cleared her throat. 

Sparing her a glance, Vasily asked, "Shall we let Nikolai in?"

"I think we should." Holding out her arms in a silent question, Zoya gratefully took her son back into herself, cradling him close while Vasily stepped away to the door. She may not have wanted this child for herself, but she could certainly play the role of the dutiful mother.

With a moaning creak, the door opened, and Vasily called, "Nikolai?"

Nikolai was in the room in an instant, bright-eyed and smiling. "How do you feel, Zo?" He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before he turned his attention on the newborn in her arms. "How is he?"

"He's wonderful." Zoya felt herself melt under Nikolai's warm gaze. She always did. She asked, "Would you like to hold him?"

"More than anything." He hadn't even hesitated, unlike Vasily, and he smiled when Zoya eased the child, now sleeping, into his arms. 

Watching Nikolai cradle the baby for a moment, Vasily turned to Zoya. In a thoroughly serious tone, he asked, "What shall we name him?"

They had, of course, discussed names at great length. The best of their choices, Zoya had long ago decided, was a proper Russian name. If he had been a girl, she would have been Anastasia. Zoya was immensely grateful that he wasn't. "Konstantin," she said. "His name is Konstantin."


	3. Chapter 2

"He's just beautiful." Alina's voice was sweet, her smile sweeter still. "You did so very well, Miss Zoya."

"Thank you." A warm haze had fallen over the house as night fell, the cicadas singing loudly in the trees, the lightning bugs dancing all around. One of them had wandered into this particular guest bedroom, and Zoya watched it as it crawled along the crown molding around the ceiling, smiling to herself while she fed Konstantin. 

Humming to herself as she folded her way through a heap of frilly baby clothes, Alina said, "I am sorry, though, that I wasn't here to see him into the world."

Zoya felt the warm expression slip off her face, a mask falling away to reveal troubled confusion. "You were, though, Alina." Cradling Konstantin closer when he fussed, she said, "You were the one to deliver him. You held my hand the entire time."

Turning so that she could meet Zoya's eyes, coffee brown on stormy blue, Alina said, "No, Miss Zoya." Her brows were drawn together in bewilderment. "I was down in the foyer, trying to help Mr. Nikolai inside. He's a mess, that one, and--" Alina cut herself off, as if she had only just realized to whom she was speaking. "I was with Mr. Nikolai. I only learned later that you had given birth. Mr. Vasily told me himself. You and the baby were both asleep by the time I came up here."

But that couldn't be. 

Zoya had seen Alina as clearly as she was seeing her now. She had felt her, had smelled her perfume on the air. She could smell it on herself even now, with Konstantin held close against her.

"If it wasn't you," Zoya said, slowly, deliberately, "who was it?"

Folding a spittle rag over her arm, Alina said, "I'm sure I don't know, Miss Zoya."

Sighing and slumping back into the pillows, Zoya said, "That will be all for now, Alina. Send Nikolai in, won't you?"

"Yes, Miss Zoya." Alina was quick to finish her folding, sliding the little squares of white into the drawers of the dresser against the opposite wall. She was fast, very well-trained, despite her having only worked for the family for a few short years. She was just short of twenty years old, but she was by far the best servant in Zoya's memory. 

Alina gave Zoya a troubled look as she slipped out the door.

Zoya bit her lip, kissed Konstantin, bided her time. Nikolai hadn't left the house, she was fairly certain. Even up on the second floor, tucked into the far corner of the manor, she would have been able to hear the door. Even Vasily had gone nowhere, it seemed. They were all home now, all together. It was odd. 

With Konstantin now asleep, Zoya reached out for the bassinet, sitting up as best she could and gently easing him into it. He didn't stir.

She watched him for a long moment before she settled back into the pillows. She still ached. She imagined she would for the rest of her life. She had never stopped hurting after the first baby, the first lost son. _Abram_. It felt as if his name had been carved inside her. Vadim's, too, and Gennady's, and Arkady's. She hadn't been sure if she could carry a child anymore after Arkady. She had worried that the writing inside her would tear open when she stretched the scars with her newest attempt at childbirth.

Reaching a hand down, Zoya pressed her palm to her belly. It was soft, hollow, and she wondered if she would ever be herself again. 

She supposed it was impossible. 

She was a mother now. That, she thought, glancing at the bassinet, was a chance she could never return from.

She wasn't sure just yet if she regretted it. 

"Did you need something, Zo?" Nikolai's voice was soft when he peeked into the room, and Zoya gestured him inside. 

"He's sleeping," she said. 

Nodding, Nikolai took a seat on the edge of the bed. His eyes, that warm hazel that she loved, stayed on Konstantin. "Everything all right?"

"I think we may be overworking Alina." Zoya bit her lip when Nikolai raised a brow at her. "She's becoming forgetful."

"Is she?" he asked.

"She insists she wasn't in the room when Konstantin was born." Zoya followed Nikolai's gaze into the cradle again. "She says she was with you."

His eyes found their way to her face. "She was." His forehead was lined in concern, and one side of his pretty mouth twitched. "You don't think Alina is really capable of that, Zoya," Nikolai said, and Zoya felt her mood darken. She hated it when he talked down to her that way. "She's a maid, not a midwife."

Zoya had no memory of anything but Alina and Konstantin and pain and blood, blood, blood. "Then who was with me?" she asked, petulantly. 

"Baghra." Nikolai stood again, crossing the room to slowly ease the heavy velvet drapes open. The moon was full, glowing through the clouds when they passed over it. "She delivered Vasily and me." If he looked hard enough, Zoya thought, he could probably pick out her little shack out in the swamp. It wasn't far, just on the edge of the Lantsov's property line, settled squarely into a clearing. "I'm not surprised he would bring her in," Nikolai was saying, though Zoya only half heard him. "He probably thought it only appropriate for her to deliver Konstantin, too. It's something of a tradition, I suppose." 

Baghra was well known in Ascension Parish, a hermit whose memory extended back to the Civil War and who had delivered many of the children of the area. Zoya hadn't seen her, even just in town, since Arkady's birth three years before. 

As he so often did, Nikolai seemed to recognize her strange mood, and he sat down on the edge of the bed again, opposite her this time, leaning across it so he could press a kiss to her temple. "You were barely conscious, Zo." His voice was sweet as honey, dark as wine, but also a little gruff. Zoya adored it. "You need to relax." 

"I'm trying." Truly she was. Relaxing, though, was far easier said than done. Though the night was still, the stillness was pierced by the howling from out in the swamp. It had happened every night since she had moved into the swamp, so many years ago, why should it stop now? Some things, it seemed, never changed.

Sighing long and heavy, Zoya let herself relax against Nikolai's side, her head tucked into his neck, his arm winding around her waist and pulling her closer. His hands were warm and soft, even through her nightgown, and they soothed her so very much. They always did.

"I've missed this." She barely heard him. Sleep was taking her fast and hard. She hadn't realized how exhausted she was. "I've missed you."


	4. Chapter 3

It had been three days already, but Zoya still couldn't walk more than a few feet. Even trips to the powder room were nearly too much for her. 

"It must be driving you mad to be stuck in here all the time," Alina said as she pulled open the drapes. It was a lovely day outside, and so she opened the balcony doors, too.

The breeze that wafted in was warm and smelled of still water and honeysuckle. 

"It is," Zoya said, doing her best to sit up. Alina rushed over to help her. "I'd like to at least get out into the parlour for a while."

Though she looked very hesitant, Alina shook her head. "No, Miss Zoya," she said, straightening the blankets around Zoya's waist. In his little bassinet, Konstantin fussed, and Alina was quick to scoop him up. "Sweet thing," she cooed at him. "You hungry?"

Sighing, Zoya fell back against her pillows. "He ate not long ago," she said. "He probably needs a change."

Alina checked, then murmured, "So he does." 

As Alina took Konstantin to the changing table that sat against the far wall, Zoya asked, "How has everyone been?" Aside from Alina, only Nikolai had been in to see her. She wasn't surprised.

"Oh, fine enough." Alina settled Konstantin onto the table and pressed a kiss to his soft little belly before she began working on the pins of his diaper. "Mr. Vasily has been very busy with maintaining the tobacco fields," she said. "He and Mal both."

"And Nikolai?" Zoya already knew, of course, but it was important for a lady to keep up appearances.

With a bit more caution, though it was unwarranted in the privacy of the manor, Alina said, "Mr. Nikolai's been busy at the still." She tossed the used diaper into the bin. "He's good at keeping himself occupied."

With a scoff, Zoya agreed, "True enough."

Securing a fresh diaper, Alina scooped Konstantin up again, bouncing him gently as she walked him back to his bassinet. "I could ring for some company, if you like," she said as she settled him down. "You must be lonely in here by yourself all day."

Zoya would never admit to it, but she absolutely was. "I'm just bored," she said instead. "At least bring me some new records, or some new magazines. I have nothing to do." Except for look after Konstantin, though she didn't say that, either. It was a duty, not anything she took pleasure in. 

"Miss Dunyasha actually sent over a few books," Alina said, gathering up the magazines strewn over the unoccupied side of the bed. "Mr. Vasily said he doesn't want you reading such trash, so I have them tucked away in my room so I could sneak them to you."

"Of course you did!" Zoya laughed. 

Smiling as she straightened the stack of magazines, Alina said, "I'll bring them in when he goes out tonight."

Zoya's smile faded at that, and she asked, "Where's he going?"

"There's a meeting in town." Setting the magazines aside on the nightstand, Alina added, "There was a murder, but no one knows who it was just yet."

That hadn't been what Zoya had expected. "A murder?" she echoed. 

"No one anyone recognized," Alina said. She stood at the edge of the bed now, her hands clasped solemnly in front of her. "There wasn't much left to go on."

Swallowing bile, Zoya pointed out, "There's something you aren't telling me, isn't there?"

Though she bit at her lip for a moment, Alina eventually confessed, "She was one of the swamp-dwellers, Miss, and she was torn to shreds."

"Oh, my," Zoya gasped. "You don't suppose she was targeted because of her standing?"

"I sure hope not." Alina's face was ashen, and she looked away. 

"Alina." She looked up. "I won't let them near you," Zoya said. "You or Mal. You two are family, and we Lantsovs protect our own."

Alina smiled, but Zoya didn't fail to notice that it didn't reach her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Fingers crossed this fic goes over well! It's pretty dark, but I'm having an absolute ball writing it! 
> 
> As always, I must mention that I go by [TheStarless1](http://thestarless1.tumblr.com/) over on Tumblr, and I'm totally open to taking questions and comments and requests and prompts there! :) Hit me up!


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